


Bas Saarebas - Dangerous Thing

by Salai



Series: (DA:I) ☽ Whoever blushes is already guilty; true innocence is ashamed of nothing ☾ [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tevinter Imperium, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bas-Saarebas, Blood and Gore, Bondage, Captivity, Child Abuse, Dungeon, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inquisitor Backstory, Lavellan Backstory, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Qunari, Sexual Slavery, Slave Trade, Slavery, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-01-29 05:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12624375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salai/pseuds/Salai
Summary: A story about the dark and often hidden side of Tevinter slave trade and sexual slavery involving dalish elves, qunari merchenaries and Tal-Vashoth. About magisters and demons and mages. Oh my.The story of how Samil Lavellan became what he is, why he mistrusts 'Vints and Qunari and why he still loves The Iron Bull and Dorian.(Set slightly pre-Inquisition. The events will lead up to it. I plan to involve Bull in later chapters.Expect a lot of bdsm-stuff, general kink, violence and non-con/rape. Warnings will be added accordingly. Tags will be updated.)





	1. The rabbit is a buck

**Author's Note:**

> This story might take some time to complete. I've had bits and pieces of it in my mind since starting DAI 3 years ago and I finally make an attempt at writing it down.  
> It's basically the backstory of my Lavellan Inquisitor.
> 
> It might include triggering material. Please be sure to check the tags and read the warnings. Tags will be updated.
> 
> I'm also not a native speaker and I have no beta-reader (anybody interested?)
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING: foul language and attempted rape in this chapter, including watersports.

The effect of the drug began to cease slowly. At first the haze of the elf's mind began to lift like a veil of mist in first morning's light. Then came the pain, which was considerably less plesant. His body ached in various places, yet he did not wish for the unconsciousness return.

The chill of the floor had seeped into his body to the bone. His muscles strained and pain shoot through his numb limbs as he shifted slightly, feeling for injuries. A pained moan spilled from his lips.

His head throbbed still from the blow that had initally taken him out. There was a dull pricking in his empty stomach and a sharp, stabbing pain in between his shoulderblades that originated from his arms having been bound behind his back. His ribs felt sore. He had been laying unmoving on his side for too long.

How long had it been? He had to remember what happened between the fight and now-

„Th' elf's awake!“

Samil grit his teeth, cursing himself for giving into his urge to shift the second he had come to his senses instead of listening to his surroundings first. Heavy footsteps approached. The dalish contemplated pretending to have fallen unconscious again for a second, but a hand grabbed him by the ear, yanking him up with a shrill cry.

The light of a nearby torch reflected in the dented steel of a breastplate, tinting the fleshy face of the human guard even redder.

„'ello pretty. I was startin' to wonder if yer'd died. Couln'd tell from the smell o' ya.“ Foul breath made Samil flinch back, only to have his ear pulled at sharply. He whined.

„Oy! Stop that.“ Another voice.

Samil was released and slumped back down, instinctively lifting a shoulder in an attempt at rubbing his ear to get rid of the feeling. He glanced at the second guard standing at the door, but the light was blinding him.

„Will ya look a' that“, the man who had gripped his ear laughed. „Sensitive, eh?“

„If you tear the rabbit's ear off it's on you'r head. You know the old pig likes to fondle them.“

The man turned to his companion.

„No wonder. I've herd that ya can make those lil' sluts cum just from pullin' a' their ears. I'd say's worth a try.“ He tried to make a grab for the elf's ears again, only to yank it back again with a howl, clutching his bleeding finger. A second later, Samils head rang from the backhanded blow to his cheek and the laughter of the other guard. „I'll teach ya, yer lil' cunt!“ The first guard stood, swaying lightly in his drunken state. He kicked at the dalish without bothering to aim, then he started to fumble with his belt.

„Careful. I've heard that they got teeth down there and will bite your cock off if you try to stick it in. Is that worth a try too?“ His companion tried to reason with the guard halfheartedly.

„If th' fucking rabbit's got any I'll knock 'em out“, the drunkard slurred.

Hands were in Samil's hair, pulling out roots. He expected to be pushed up against the human's crotch, but was flung on his back instead. His arms took the blow and tears welled up in his eyes as the forche of his fall was stopped by his pulled back shoulders. At least he didn't hit his head on the stone floor this time.

The guard was on him before he could scramble back, pulling and yanking at his breeches. The elf kicked his legs up, but his knees hitting the armour were doing little damage to the brute and only added to his own bruises. The halla leather finally slid down, exposing the curve of his ass to the cold floor and restricted the movements of his legs as it was hanging between his thighs.

A callused hand grabbed his crotch, much to the elf's dismay – and was pulled back with a curse.  
The second guard craned his head in surprise, half expecting to really see the glint of sharp teeth as his drunk companion stumbled to his feet before his laughter filled the cell again.

„Now there's something you can tug on to see if you can make the knife ear cum.“

„Fuck! Couldn't tell from t' face. The rabbit 's a buck!“ The discovery had left quite an impact because the man seemed to sober up. At least he started to sound somewhat more coherent.

„What's the matter? I thought you liked to fuck them up the ass anyways. Turn him over and be done with it.“

„The lords like 'em virgin cunts, but if I fuck t' other hole they never know. 's not the same with a pair hangin' down under.“ The heel of a heavy boot caught Samil off guard and a howl echoed off the walls as he curled up into a ball, trying to shield his nether regions.

„If you keep kicking him there it will make little difference soon enough but we won't get paid for damaged goods“, the other human warned. „Fuck him, or leave him be. But try not to bruise the face. The pretty ones get the highest prices and this one doesn't even have any markings“, the second guard remarked Samil's lack of vallaslin.

„I can take care o' that.“ The brute regarded the dalish with a sneer. His errection had already begun to die down and shrivel up in the cold air. Taking it into a hand, he stepped over the bound body. A stream of warm liquid sprayed from the tip, hitting the dalish on his cheek and his neck after he quickly turned away in an attempt to avoid the urine. „There, nice an' proper.“

„Damn it. You clean that up, fucking jackass. We were just supposed to check on the merch. If you lower the value I'll be demanding your cut from the captain.“

The elf tried to get away from the puddle as soon as the man stepped back.

„He'll get thirsty“, the guard shrugged and finally he went to the door. His companion grunted and placed a bowl of food down.

Then the door closed and the sound of footsteps grew distant until there was just silence left.

 


	2. First encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to Samil's first encounter with slavers and how he met his little brother Fen'Revas for the first time.
> 
> (First part. The next leads up to his capture.)
> 
> Fen'Revas is the Inquisitor of my beloved. I do hope to get his reactions right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: gore, death of slavers (not shown) and child abuse (not shown)
> 
> Please read at own risk.

The dalish couldn't possibly have said how many days had passed since he had awoken in captivity.

The unconsciousness came back once, after he had eaten from the bowl the guardsmen had left and along with it the hazed state of a drugged mind. After that, Samil hadn't touched food, despite his hunger. The treat of rape scared him too much to give in to the nagging pain in his empty guts.

Sometimes the torch would burn down, leaving him in darkness for hours upon hours. He tried to make note of the coming and going of the guards, but he might have missed a few turns during his sleep and soon he gave up on trying to keep track of the days.

There were other captives. He could hear them sometimes, begging, cursing, screaming crying. The shuffling of feet that passed the door to his narrow cell.

Other elves, he immagined. Taking captive by slavers during their raids. Like he had been.

Samil had spent his waking hours trying to remember what had happened. But it had come back to him in his sleep in the form of a nightmare that had startled him awake in cold sweat.

At least now he knew.

 

* * * * *

 

Samil was out hunting.

It was about time he got his vallaslin. At sixteen he was old enough to make his very own big kill. Others had earned theirs at a much younger age and he was eager to earn the mark of his manhood today.

There were wolves near by. He had heard the pack howling in the night from their camp. But he had set his eyes on another price. A big bear! That was the kind of game he wanted to bring back to his clan.

Deep into the woods he rode on his halla, until he finally found the right tracks in the fresh snow. Surefoot the halla climbed over snow covered roots, never missing a step as they followed the bear. Clawmarks on a tree! The tears in the bark were wet and sticky to the touch – fresh. And so high that Samil had to reach up, even astride his mount! The dalish boy took the mage staff from his back. His magic tingled in his fingertips and excitement coiled in his stomach, but it was a good feeling.

The halla lifted its head and scented the air, huffing nervously.

„You're doing well. You're swift, you can outrun a bear and I will summon a barrier. Don't worry“, Samil murmurred, reaching for a twitching ear and tryied to calm the animal with soothing words and touch.

The scream came unexpected.

His halla reared and Samil nearly fell off its back before he managed to grab a twisted horn. When a surge of magic washed over them, a murder of crows took wing in front of them, screeching as they climbed higher.

Samil's heart was in his throat and he let the halla bolt, bending deep over its slender neck to avoid the low brances of trees. But when his staff was knocked out of his grip, Samil struggled to rein his mount in.

„We need to turn back!“ The halla bucked unwillingly but stopped. „I'm not leaving without my staff. It took me months to carve!“, Samil huffed and turned the halla around. „Come now! If we cross path with the bear or a pack of hungry wolves you'll be glad for it. Stop being difficult!“

The halla made a displeased sound but trotted back, carefully listening ahead. Luckily there were tracks to follow. Samil tried to feel for the magic in the crystal he had worked into the wood. Crafting the rune had cost time and effort. Their Keeper had been so proud when Samil had presented his first staff.

But it was the faint glint of the blade he had affixed to the end of the staff that caught his eye first. Relief washed over Samil and he urged the halla on. Bending agilely off its back without having to dismount, he fetched his weapon from the snow and quickly inspected it for damage.

The leatherbound grip was wet and cold and there were scratches where it had hit the tree, but otherwise it seemed intact. Sighing, Samil straightened on the halla's back and then the sound reached them. Both their ears twitched and mount and rider turned their heads.

„That's children crying“, Samil realized breathlessly.

This time the halla needed no urging as they rode towards the noise, but at the foot of a hill it stopped again, stubbornly refusing to follow commands. But it didn't bolt again

Now the sound was loud and clear. Samil slid quietly off the animal's back and climbed the slope that hid the source of the sound from view. On the summit of the hill he peered down the dip and held his breath.

There were cages. Theirs wood was dark like the surrounding trees, they stood on wheeled carts and locked inside were elvhen children. The firepit was still burning in the middle of the small camp. And there were wolves, stalking too close to the fire for his liking. No wonder the halla had refused to come closer.

The captive children were huddled together in their cages, crying and trying to hide in fear of the prowling predators. Or maybe something else.

The aura of magic still hung above the slaver's camp and maybe it was the only thing keeping the wolves at bay. The blood must have drawn them in. The snow around the charts was splattered with big blotches of a dark shade of ruddy pink. All that remained of the adults were bits of gore in the snow.

A single child was sitting in the middle of the mess. Half naked, splattered with blood and very quiet. But the wolves did not attack. When Samil rose slowly, a few lifted their heads and snarled at him. The moment he took a step forward, one big male stepped in between him and the child.

They were protecting the child, Samil realized feeling dizzy.

The low growl of the alpha allerted the child. Big green eyes stared up at Samil from beneath the same silver hair he had. Samil lifted his hand in a hopefully calming gesture.

„I'm here to help“, he offered, not quite sure how to approach the situation. The soft language of their kind seemed to console the startled child. Carefully, Samil took another step. The wolf watched him. When the beast didn't move, Samil gathered up his courage and began to slowly descended the hill, painfully aware of the pack watching him. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end when he passed the male that reached up to his shoulders, but he reached the child unharmed.

„Hey“, he breathed and dropped to his knees. „I'm Samil-“, he managed before the child had suddenly flung it's arms around his neck. All he could do was to lift his own arms to embrace it as the boy – finally – began to cry, too.

Samil whispered soothingly in his ear as he looked around. Three cages, luckily mostly empty. A pack of wolves, bigger than any he had seen so far. The remanents of grown men. Samil felt his stomach twist when he spotted a small body in the snow. Dead.

Then he felt sticky wetness beneath his fingers on the child's back.

„You're hurt.“ he tried to pull back, but the child held on fast, sobbing louder. So he wrapped his ams tighter around the small body, hoping to reassure the boy.

„I'm not leaving. It's cold and I am worried you will freeze. Let me have a look at your back, please?“ Reluctantly the boy opened his grip. Samil didn't let go but pulled away just enough so he could look into green eyes.

„Can you tell me your name?“, Samil asked.

„...Revas“, the child said, so quietly he nearly missed it. _Freedom_.

„That's a pretty name.“ Samil smile friendly before he dared to break the embrace and continued to try to keep a conversation going to reassure the child that he wouldn't leave. „Let's have a look at your back. Can you tell me how old you are?“

Samil missed the answer when he saw the damage. Bleeding gashes from crude whiplash crossed on the boy's back. Five in total. The corresponding whip lay almost within reach, next to the stump of a hand, which was the only thing left of the slavers that was remotely recognizable.

Samil paled when realization hit him.

The lashing must have brought the child's magic forth. The surge had killed the men in a blast that he had felt wash over him before. That was a gruesome way of reaching ones powers.

It could have killed the other children too, but the splashed of red all pointed outwards in the direction he had come from. This bordered on divine intervention. Samil shoot the watching wolves a glance and swore to bring Fen'Harel the next offering.

„Let's get this cleaned up and then I'll take you back to my clan so you can rest“, he muttered and reached for the elfroot potion on his belt with trembling fingers.

Afterwards he didn't remember much from their march back to the camp of his clan. He had wrapped Revas in his cloak. The halla was carrying three children and he had one on his back and was holding the hand of another. The rest followed in the path of ihs footsteps and he walked slowly so they could follow right behind.

The pack was following them instead of devouring the torn corpses of the slavers. Their company was eery, but never once did they feel threatened. It was more like the wolves were watching over them. Or, more likely, over the young mage, Revas.

Samil had left the corpse of the girl behind. The frozen ground was too hard and the child deserved bettern than an unmarked grave. He had put the body in one of the cages to protect her from scavengers, wrapped in oil cloth of a tent he had pulled down, with snow heaped above it. A hunting party could retrieve her later...

It was dark when they finally reached the clearing where the aravels stood in a circle.

The keeper had been worried. Samil should have been back way earlier from his hunt. When he lead the tired children out of the forest, shouting could be heard and soon they were in the secure embrace of their people.

 

* * * * *

 


	3. Interludium - Fen'Revas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an interludium to catch breath from the drama.
> 
> What happened in the dalish camp once the children arrived.  
> How Fen'Revas got his honour title to his name at a very young age and an explaination of what will happen to the dalish children Samil has brought back to the clan.
> 
> Also: Halla are cute!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings here. Maybe a little fun at the end.  
> I hope you like it.
> 
> (This was not beta-read and I'm a non-native speaker. Feel free to point mistakes out to me.)
> 
> Comments are welcome. Let me know what you think of it so far. I am interested in your opinions.

With the children fed and seen to a sense of order returned. Most of them were only exhausted and cold from the walk. Some minor briuses from beating to keep them in line. Non so severe as the injuries from the whiplash Revas had received.

The day after, Samil spottet the boy standing at the egde of their camp, watching the halla. He had been tended to, but their healer had said that the injuries would scar regardless. The blows had been severe and Samil hadn't carried enough potion on him to heal the whipmarks completely after he had given some of the elfroot brew to other children too. But he had stopped the bleeding and managed to get all children to safety.

Revas turned his head when he noted Samil approach and smiled exitedly.

„I wanna ride one! Can I?“ He pointed at the biggest male of the herd.

„That's the halla our Keeper rides.“ He stopped next to the boy, who pointed at another one.

„This one is yours. I would like to ride it, but it must be tired from yesterday.“

Samil glanced at his mount and smiled.

„You can ride with me once we move“, he promissed and crouched down. The halla were nervous. The wolf pack was nearby. It had fallen back once the camp had come into reach, but Samil was fairly certain that they were still close. „And when you're older you'll get your own halla so you can ride all you like.“

At that, the boy shook his head.

„I'll ride a wolf!“, the child said, using almost the same tone of voice the Keeper employed whenever someone said something stupid. Samil's right eyebrow rose.

„You can't ride a wolf. It will think you're a nug and eat you“, he joked and tried to tickle the boy's side, but Revas slapped his hand away and made an annoyed face, which let Samil stop his teasing instantly.

„I can! Mamae does. She has a big white one! But I want one that is black!“, Revas said and raised his hands to indicate the heigh of the mount. Samil remembered the hulking beast that had moved to stand between him and Revas and shivered. „But your halla are pretty. I want to ride one now. It was fun.“

Samil caught himself staring open-mouthed at the boy's confidence.

„Samil. There you are. We need to discuss some urgent matters. Come with me, please.“ The Keeper had manifested out of thin air. Samil rose quickly, taking Revas by the hand out of reflex. „He can stay here. It will be tiring.“

„Revas wants to ride a halla. I don't think-“, he started but was dismissed instantly.

„He will be fine. They won't let him climb their backs.“

Samil stopped, looked down into the big green eyes, saw a glint of mischief and glanced back at the Keeper.

„Keeper, I really think he should rather come-“

„Don't make me repeat myself, please. Those aren't suitable matters for children's ears.“ The Keeper turned, ending the discussion and left. Samil bent down, until he was on eye level with Revas, who suddenly seemed to be very much of the oppinion that everything was certainly amost suitable topic for children – or that he wasn't a child anymore and that the matter did concern him, thankyou very much! He just seemed a little unsure which option suited him better. Which was probably the only thing that bought Samil enough time to come up with a distraction before the child could insist that he wanted to come along.

„Alright. This will be sooo boring... There are some winter apples in the aravel where we slept. Get one for yourself and one for my halla.? You can feed it while I'm gone. I am sure it will be happy to see you. Hm?“

„Okay...“ It sounded a little disappointed, but Samil quickly stretched to kiss the child's forehead and smiled brotherly.

„I'll take you on a ride, promisse.“ That seemed to do the trick. At least, Revas returned his smile.

Minutes later Samil joined the Keeper and some of their hunters.

 

* * * * *

 

The discussion had taken less time than expected.

The children were to many to keep with them for long. Their provisions were limited as was the space in the aravels. They would be slowed down and with the treat of human raiding parties so close the danger of being ambushed next was considerably increased.

Two of their huntsmen had volunteered to get the girl's corpse. They had already left. Some messengers would ride out in search of the nearest clans. The children had to be returned to their own families as soon as possible. Those, who could not be brought to their clan would be keept as wards and fostered until the next gathering. But the parents needed to be informed that they were alive and well. The clan would keep moving to minimize the risk of an attack, but circle back to give the messengers more time whilst minimizing the risk of being discovered whilst they were missing strenght.

The plan was the best they had come up with. Some messengers might be attacked on their way, but they couldn't risk to send them in pairs or they would be left with no protection left. There were children from seven different clans, some siblings.

The volunteering elves left the meeting to prepare. Samil had offered to take Revas to his clan. When he moved to leave, the Keeper held him back.

„There are some things left that I need to talk to you about.“

„But Revas is still waiting for me, I should probably check on him quickly“, Samil said.

„He can wait a little more.“ The Keeper wouldn't hear it and Samil settled back down. „About the circumstances you found the children in“, the Keeper started and Samil cringed a little.

The main reason as to why the Keeper was so adamant about getting the children home as soon as possible was the fear of new mages in their midst. Templars who might happen to cross their path would mostlikely take the presence of more than three mages as a welcome reason to cause trouble.

„I understand that it is your first impulse to protect others, so I won't be mad. But it is important that you tell me the truth now. I find it highly unlikely that the men were slain by the wolves.“

Samil avoided the Keepers eyes. Normal wolves wouldn't have attacked heavily armoured slavers with big, noisy carts. Even if they had been half starved, and even if they had tried their luck, there would have been injured animals about. The pack would have picked the fleeing children appart, taken the girl's body,run after his halla... but they wouldn't have taken their chances with grown men in steel.

Samil bit his lower lip. Revas was too young to come into his magic, yet he had, before he had had any training. He posed as big a treat to the clan as any raider if a demon would trick him.Yet Samil had half a mind of constructing a story about how he had defeated the slavers in combat, but then his vallaslin would be a mark of shame that he had to look upon in every reflecting surface to be reminded of his lie.

The Keeper's voice was soft when it interrupted his train of thoughts.

„I now Fen'Revas reminds you of your brother. He can stay with you for now and you can accompany him back to his clan, but it must be soon and until then I need to know what happened – for his sake and ours.“

Samil blinked in confusion, the blurred image of a face and the dull pain in his chest returned too quickly.

„ _Fen_ 'Revas?“

„I overheard you by the den. There is a clan that rides wolves. They are said to worship Fen'Harel and they live remote. Their choice of mount and god is one of the reasons why they seldomly attend the grand gatherings. All their names include the wolf as a deference to the trickster god. They earn it like we do our vallaslin. Fen'Revas, albeit unintentionally, killed the slavers and saved the other children. I'd say that's revarding of the honour.“

Samil nodded slowly. The new information were interesting enough but also a little prick in his pride. The Keeper seemed to read him like an open book and said:

„You will earn your vallaslin soon enough. For now you can demonstrate me your adulthood by telling me in detail what you saw, so we can be ready.“

„You sound like we're going to war“; Samil muttered, a little relieved that he hadn't tried to lie about the kills.

„Not exactly, but knowledge is a weapon and I intend to be well armed, just in case. It's better to be prepared, wether you're expectign a fight or not. You never know what might await you“, the Keeper explained.

Samil inhaled deeply and started quietly to describe what he had seen in the woods, as detailed as possible.

 

* * * * *

 

„...That's when we finally saw the light from the fire and-“, Samil stopped dead in his narration, his gaze fixed on something behind the Keeper. The ruckus was quite hard to ignore.

The Keeper tried anyway.

„Yes? Do go on.“

„K-Keeper. I really think you should have allowed Fen'Revas to come along“, Samil rasped, visibly struggling to hold back laughter.

„He has suffered enough, no need to drag him through those dredful memories again- Samil! What is the matter with you?“ The apprentice mage was snorting and clearly too invested in the scene evolving in the Keepers back, so they turned around to see for themselves – only to gawke at a howling Fen'Revas who was galopping at full speed around the camp astride the biggest halla's back, speeding past for the third time now.

It took a fourth round before the Keeper all but fell down the aravel in pursuit of the feral mount whilst laughter rang across the glade.

 

 

~~(End of the Interludium)~~

 


	4. Second Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samil's capture.
> 
>  
> 
> (I had to reformat the whole thing. Pardon the late update, but I have no internet connection at home until the 18th December. The next Chapter is already written, but I will upload it once I have Internet at home.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing too violent here, so no warnings apply.  
> The smut starts in the next chapter.

They had buried the little girl beneath an oak with all the respecting honours of their kin.

Some messergers had come back with riders from other clans. Fathers and mothers whose happiness was beyond words when they embraced their child. But there were little tragedies as well. Some parents had been slain during the raids. One clan had changed their route, intending to meet the riders escorting some siblings halfway. No word from others yet, but they couldn't risk waiting any longer. Groups of Shems had been spotted, Templars among them. They needed to move on.

Samil was saddling a displeased halla.  
„Come now. You'll be glad for the blanket in the snow and we need to carry provisions“, he chided softly and tried to bribe the animal with a yellow apple, which usually worked. Fen'Revas stood next to him, holding out another apple, which was received much keener.

„Can I sit in the front?“, the boy asked. The prospect of riding excited him. It had taken the Keeper and two seasoned hunters almost an hour to catch up to Fen on the big mount last time.

Samil chuckled. „Yes, you may. I need you to keep your eyes and ears open for your people. The Keeper says your clan likes to hide quite well and we need to find them quickly.“

Fen'Revas beamed, but then his little face started to cloud over. „I don't wanna-“ They had grown close really fast in a matter of hours and now that weeks had passed they were like brothers.

Samil quickly kissed his cheek. „We will meet again. Let's first get you home.“

„Soon?“

„Soon! Maybe as early as spring. But your mamae is worried about you and you need to tell her that you are now all grown up and even got your full name. Yes?“

„Okay...“ The smile was back again. „Can you stay a little?“

„A little, if your clan allows it“, Samil promised and with a squeal of joy, Fen started to make a list of all the things he needed to show him, the wolves included.

 

* * * * *

 

„Will you be alright?“

They had been riding for days in the company of other elves that were bringing children back home. Little by little the group had split up and now the last of them had to part ways.

„Yes, thank you. Fen'Revas says that we are close to one of his clan's usual resting places. We'll go there first and leave a message if we won't find anyone.“

„There are wolves nearby.“

„I believe it's the same pack that was at the slaver's camp. His people must be somewhere nearby. We will be fine.“

„Alright then. Take care.“

After wishing everyone a safe journey, they went on their way. Some elves of Samil's clan had been wary about letting one of their mages part, but the Keeper had assured everyone that it was safer if they had less cause for any templars to trouble them. Plus Fen'Revas needed guidance should demons try to approach him in the fade during his dreams, and Samil had insisted adamantly to be the one accompanying Fen'Revas. They rode on for some more hours until the sky began to darken.

„I don't think we'll make it before nightfall to your clan's usual stop. We should start looking for shelter“, Samil said after a while. Fen'Revas was leaning his back against the front of the older dalish and seemed to doze. Wrapped tightly in their cloaks, the winter's cold wasn't much of bother, not with shared body heat trapped between them. Fen moved a little and pointed uphill.

„I think there are caves up there somewhere if I remember right. I remember these hills. We've been here last winter."

„Sounds better than sleeping in a tent.“ Samil took the way Fen'Revas choose and it really didn't take them long to reach an opening in the hillside. Samil slid off the halla's back and helped the boy down before taking hold of his staff. „It's too small for bears, but I want to check for spiders first. Will you stay here and keep an eye out for wolves?“, he asked Fen and worked just enough magic to make the crystal in his staff glow.

The boy nodded and Samil reached for the blade on his staff. It was as long as his forearm and he had fashioned it in such a way that no smith was needed to detach it from the wood. With a low click it came off and Samil crouched down so they were on the same eye level.

"Here. Just in case", he said and handed Fen'Revas the blade, hilt first. The elfling took it a little surprised but with a spark of fascination in his eyes. The silver metal gleamed cold as ice in the last rays of sunshine. The end of the blade was wrapped in crossing strips of white leather. "Don't hesitate to use it." Fen nodded, then shook his head.

"Mine was shorter." Samil watched the smiling child inspecting the weapon expertedly. "The slavers took it. I stabbed one of them in the leg and they threw it into the stream." Fen looked up and flashed him a grin, making the older elf smile.

"You are truly an unusual child."

"I'm already nine!" Fen'Revas reminded him protesting and straightened his back to look taller. He was short for his age and looked younger, but Samil had quickly learned that the boy had Fen'Harel's wits about him.

"And already braver than some grown men I know", Samil smiled and ruffled soft silver hair. It was no longer than his fingers but silky and unable to hide the long shells of the boy's pointy ears. Samil had his own hair in a long braid that kept falling over his shoulder. It was the same color and made them even more seem like brothers. Fen'Revas beamed. He liked to be treated like an adult and Samil liked to indulge him, since he knew the feeling all too well. The boy had already shown that he was able to take care of himself. "I won't be long. Keep an eye on the halla. Don't let it wander off too far, but let it feed. You can try to find us some firewood in the meantime. Just stay close, please. And call me if you need me."

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"Promise!" The boy took the halla's reins and started to walk a little further.

"And don't cut yourself!", Samil called after him mockingly and caught a glimpse of a strawberry red tongue.

"Careful you don't get bitten!", Fen called back laughing.

When Samil returned from his little venture he found Fen'Revas by the entrance of the cave, grinning from one pointed ear to the other. The blood on his cheek startled Samil, but before he could worry, the boy held up a death nug. He had already skinned it.

"I didn't cut myself", he announced teasingly.

"And I didn't find any spiders."

The tunnels had some junctions, but all of them ended after a while in a dead end and one was leading back to the entrance. Samil had checked all of them, marking each fork by making little heaps of rock before going in. The air was dry but one of the caves was lit by mushrooms growing from the walls. They choose the little cave that had two entrances - which meant two routs of escape, just in case - and Samil built a small fire to roast the nug. The halla was left to roam freely. It wouldn't wander off. Sated, Samil and Fen'Revas huddled together beneath their cloaks.

"Tomorrow we'll reach the clearing. Please don't be disappointed if we won't encounter anyone. I am sure we'll find your clan soon. But after the raid they will have gone into hiding."

"Mamae will be looking for me. Our wolves know my scent. If they catch it, they will find us."

"Are there any monuments to Fen'Harel nearby?"

"Why?"

"I wanted to thank him with an offering. The Dreadwolf seems to be watching over you and I am glad for it." Fen'Revas fell quiet. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No. It's just strange. I've never really seen elves worship gods", the child explained a little hesitantly as if the topic was making him uncomfortable.

"But- Your clan worships Fen'Harel", Samil wondered. "We don't worship him in a religious way."

"You go as far as picking names in his honor." Samil was utterly confused.

"We are thankful to him because he freed us of slavery."

"I- what? What do you mean? What slavery?" Samil was relatively sure that the boy didn't speak of the humans who had captured the elven children for trade. Elves were still slaves throuout Thedas.

"When he tricked the old Gods and locked them away, he freed us of the slavery of religion", Fen'Revas tried to explain and Samil looked at him, dumbfound.

"But you call them Gods."

"Because that is what they are called now. Doesn't make it true. Once, all elves were immortal and we all had magic running in our veins. Slavery has thinned our blood as it was mixed with those of others. They didn't only take our cities and land to condem us into a nomadic life. They took our lifes, too." Samil listened and watched the embers of their fire shine in red and gold. "We beliefe, that the Gods are just that: elves like we were supposed to be. Powerful mages from the time when we were still eternal and our magic powerful beyond compare. But not gods. Just- ancient elves."

That did- make a terrible lot of sense.

"I thought you got the Fen-part in your name because Fen'Harel doesn't have a vallaslin."

"We do get a vallaslin." Fen'Revas laughed.

"Now you're confusing me."

"We honor tradition and for us, it isn't about a deity but about the ascribed qualities. And we won't be taken seriously by other Dalish if we all look like we're under age."

"So you what? Just... pick a vallaslin at random?"

"Of course not!" Again the face as if the question had been terribly dumb. "It has to reflect some part of us."

"I see- well, which vallaslin will you get then?", Samil asked and pulled the cloak higher.

Fen blinked and looked up at the low ceiling. "I- don't know yet", he confessed and frowned. Samil felt the dark memories creep back and tried to distract the child quickly.

"Me neither, to be honest."

"But you should know by now."

"I was thinking Falon'Din, because he guides the dead", Samil said and an image of silver hair and golden eyes like his own flashed in his mind for a second, along with a pang of pain and grief, but he willed it away with a smile. "But lately I have been drawn to Mythal for her justice and protection." The past was over, his brother dead and he needed to move on.

"I always liked the vallaslin of Mythal best", Fen'Revas said and Samil chuckled.

"You're supposed to pick a fitting one."

"But still, it's pretty."

"That it is."

 

* * * * *

 

Samil woke up to find himself in a tangle of arms and legs and Fen snuggling up to him for warmth. The embers had burned down and the ashes of their fire were cold by now. The older elf extracted himself carefully from their embrace. Conjuring a little flame in the palm of his hand, Samil rearranged some twigs to light another little fire so Fen'Revas wouldn't be alone in the dark when he awoke. He placed some of their food next to him so the boy could get some breakfast then he left the cave. Nature was calling. His attempt at drawing a flower resulted in a undefined yellow spot in the fresh dusty snow. The soft surface would slow them down.

Samil looked around for his halla but the animal wasn't to bee seen. Muttering under his breath, he took another bite from his apple before slowly making his way down the hill, looking for traces. Snow was falling from trees, making it hard to see any imprints hooves could have left. Brances were creaking under their heavy load and occasionally one would snap, the sharp echoing through the forest. Samil found a tree were the bark had been pulled off in part by the antlers of a halla and finally there was a track.

With every step he took, his boots sunk deep. He felt like wading upstream through quick water. Some birds took flight above him, sending snow rushing down onto him.

Cursing, Samil shook his head to get the snow out of his hair, when suddenly he saw it. A dark figure, coming towards him, movements silenced by the snow. The elf ducked behind the next tree, heart pounding and blood rushing through his body as he gripped his staff tight. A branch snapped, close to him. Then he could hear the heavy steps of big mounts, muffled but clear enough to tell that there was more than one rider.

If he stayed, they would spot him eventually, Samil realized. If he tried run, they would see him. They might let him, but after seeing what had happened at the slaver's camp, he wasn't ready to take chances. And those weren't elves on halla... nor wolves. Horses! Big ones. He had to get back to Fen. They were heading in the direction of their cave. As quick as possible whilst trying to move soundlessly, Samil went from tree to tree and kept turning. The riders were close. Then he heard voices behind him. Too distant to make out words, but first curious, then there were calls and then the sound of mounts spurred to a run.

Samil bolted.

He had no idea how he did it, but he reached the hill without being caught. The humans had seen him, he was sure. And they were following him. But horses proved to be less surefoot than halla, especially on the treacherous ground of slippery roots and old foliage covered by snow. Fen was standing by the entrance of the cave, feeding apples to the halla, who had been gods knew where, when Samil rushed up the hill, panting and his staff still in hand.

"Get on the halla", he shouted up at the boy, who had lifted a hand to wave at him. The boy's smile faltered then the blast of a horn rang from the hills and he froze. Samil reached them when a pair of dogs came running out of the treeline, making noise. He grabbed Fen'Revas by the waist the second he reached him and hauled him up the animals back, leaving the saddle where it was as he climbed up behind the boy. The halla darted when the mabari were half way up the hill. "Tell me where to go", Samil demanded, wrapping one arm around the child out of fear that he might fall off, clutching his staff in the other. This time holding it closer so it wouldn't be knocked out of his hand again. The horn was blown a second time and the dogs followed them, baying.

This was a hunt.

And they were the game.

 

* * * * *

 

"The stream is too deep to cross. We'll never make it."

"I know." Samil grit his teeth.

In two they were too heavy for the slender animal. There were at least five hunters. Two were right behind them, but the ones he couldn't see were those he was worrying about. They were trying to cut them off and the damn dogs were herding them towards the river. His halla was fast, but it couldn't outrun dogs and horses both forever, and he didn't know which way to turn lest they'd end up in a trap.

"Do you know where we are?", he asked. Samil could feel Fen's thundering heartbeat beneath his hand as he was holding him close. He bent deep, shielding the smaller body with his own.

"Yes. We need to get the valley behind us." Which meant, following the river.

"We can't outrun them. We must hide."

"But the dogs will follow the scent."

"Even dogs can be outsmarted. Do you know a place to hide, Fen?" The boy was tense in his arms, cold and small and frightened, but brave.

"Yes! The campsite is ahead. There are many caves and open passages." Dalish didn't like to stay where they could be trapped. They would find places that were both shielded but offered enough way to slip away if needed be.

"How far is is?" Men were shouting behind them. Samil could feel foreign magic gathering in the air behind them. "How far?" Fen was quiet, but his silence told Samil what he needed to know: too far away to reach with a tiring halla. "Do you still have my staff blade?" Fen nodded and reached for his boot to pull the silver blade out. "Good. Use it well and don't hesitate. The others won't."

"I will", Fen'Revas nodded. Samil could hear the determination in his voice, took a deep breath and pressed a kiss to the child's temple. He needed to buy time.

"Be safe. Get to your clan, get help. Don't turn around!" He could feel the shock course through the lithe body as he let go.

Fen cried out when Samil let himself slip off the hallas back, struggled to his feet in the snow and struck one of the dogs that was hard on their heels down with a blast of lightening.

"Samil!" Fen turned the screaming halla.

"Go! Run!", Samil stunned the second dog before it reaced him and whirled around, sending just enough electricity towards the halla to get it to flee, Fen'Revas being unable stop it.

Samil turned back towards their pursuers just in time to fend of a surge of magic coming towards him. It still knocked him off his feet. He landed next to the dead dog. The world was a blurr of white snow and black trees, spinning around him when he struggled to get his focus back. Towering figures appeared and moved closer. Samil could hear the dull sound of snow-crusted hooves. Deep voices buzzed in his head and he tried to get to his feet. Men calling out to one another. Samil reached blindly around. He had lost his staff, again. The voices became clearer in his head, but the language was foreign to him. He saw one of the humans approach on horseback and decided to leave his staff be and dart instead, but he came to a stumbling halt when a geldling blocked his way.

Samil reached for his belt and unsheated the small dagger he used mostly to cut his food. The blade was no longer than his hand, but still a better weapon than bare fists. Turning again, he saw a third rider and almost felt relief wash over him. That meant less men chasing after Fen'Revas. Still, things didn't look good for him. The riders began circling him and when his vision finally cleared, he could make out their arms.

One mage - the one almost knocking him out, no doubt. One warrior with his sword drawn and a bowman, who had an arrow notched. Samil gripped the dagger he had pulled from his belt tighter. He could have taken one of them out for sure. Maybe two. The bowman with a blast, the knight with a knife driven into one of his dark eyes, but not the mage. Older than he was by far with white in his beard and eyes like a hawk.

"Put that little thing away, elf, before you cut yourself", he said in a voice thick with accent.

Samil understood the common tongue well enough, but he wasn't feeling particularily inclined to talk to the lot who had run him down like a hare. A smug grin beneath the beard as the mage made a comment, clearly about him, made Samil hiss, only to result in more laughter from the hunting party.

"Seems like your mount has run off. There are wolves nearby and they will feed tonight. Won't you come with us? We could give you a ride", the bowman offered. His accent Samil knew. He must have been from Val Royeaux. If they had seen wolves maybe there was still hope that Fen would find his clan soon and be safe. The animals wouldn't harm him, Samil was certain of that.

"Aye. One you won't forget", the warrior laughed. Samil felt his ear twitch in irritation. The man had the same accent as the mage and the same dark skin. The mage shoot the warrior a stern look and sighed.

"Let me make this easier for you to decide. Put that knife away and do not resist, or we will use force. You are outnumbered, you are alone and your mount has run off. You will either freeze or starve or be eaten. In any case the result will be the same dead elf."

Samil realized a very important thing in that instant. They hadn't seen that the halla had carried two riders.

"I don't think the rabbit understands a word you're saying", the bowman decided in a bored tone of voice. "Let's get this done. My balls are freezing off", said the warrior and kicked his horse to get closer. Samil crouched immediatels, his blade flashing in a silver bow before him and the horse reared. Cursing, the man lost a stirrup, slipped and fell from his horse's back. Samil moved quick as a striking viper and the blade came down to cut the man's soft throat, but the metal never touched flesh.

An arrow hissed and caught his arm. Samil was knocked to the side with a cry. Luckily for him the arrowhead had been blunt, designed to kill small animals without ruining their pelt. Shot from the small distance it had almost broken his arm. It certainly hurt as if it had.

"Don't be foolish", the dalish heard the mage call at him when he got back on his knees, gripping the blade with his other hand, holding it close to his chest at the warrior finally found to his feet. There was no way he could get trough the steel of his armor. The bowman casually notched and drew again. The warrior said something as he was closing in, but Samil didn't listen. He was ready to throw his knife at the archer when the mage lowered his staff and shot a spell at him.

Before Samil knew what had happened, his world turned black.

Those had been his last moments spent in freedom.


	5. Learning how to please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First days in captivity

"That one, too. Get him cleaned up and dressed."

Samil blinked at the sudden light falling into his cell that had just ripped him from a dream full of snow. He had heard wolves howling and somehow he had known that Fen'Revas had made it. He really hoped that at least that part hadn't been a mere dream. It had been the first one that hadn't turned out to be a nightmare in the end.

Heavy boots on stone, then he was hoisted up like a sack of grain by strong hands and hanging from a shoulder. He fathomed having seen a pair of horns, but his consciousness threatened to slip away. The sudden movement made him dizzy and his empty stomach made him sick. He hadn't known that was even possible.

Samil was carried from the cell. He couldn't tell how many days had passed since he had been captured. Enough to make him too weak to fight. He had been moved. At least that he knew. They had been traveling and the cells had changed, but they were so similar that he had barely noticed.

A breeze of fresh air caught his hair and Samil inhaled deeply, only to regret it one second later. He didn't exactly smell pleasant. The stench of old sweat and the guards' dried urine still clung to him, having had not enough water to wash and barely sufficient to drink.

The man carrying him didn't complain however and Samil was set down in a warm room with damp air. He blinked owlishly as two figures approached him. He had to squint, his eyes still unaccustomed to light after so long in darkness.

"We were sent to clean you up. Please don't make this hard, or we will all be punished", a female voice explained. Samil gasped lightly. She had spoken Elvhen. When he looked up, he saw two elves. The woman who had spoken was old, her vallaslin faded with age and her eyes so clouded that Samil assumed she was blind.

"Where-", Samil croaked before his voice broke. He hadn't used it in a long time.

"Minrathous", the younger female answered as she got to her knees by his side and started to undo his bindings.

"We're not allowed to talk to you, except translating commands", the older one explained. "You don't speak common?"

Samil flinched away from the touch when his shirt was pealed over his head. His skin beneath was pale and covered in dirt, his silver hair was so filthy it looked gray. He considered the best option for an answer, trying to think quick, then he shook his head.

"If you're going to lie, learn to do better than that. It's a trait the masters don't like too well, you'll soon see", the crone reproached in the tongue of their people. Samil didn't know how to reply to that. "At least you don't wail. Good."

Samil was stripped by soft hands that took away his clothes - the only belongings he had left. Then he was ushered into a corner of the room, where other elves stood, naked like him. Men and women, boys and girls. Other elves brought buckets full of water to dump on them.The floor was swimming with dirty water soon. Some of the elves tried to talk to the ones washing them but were met with a silence that struck deep. Lips drawn into tight lines and eyes that avoided glances. Deaf ears all around them.

Samil watched and let them do their work.

After the worst grime had been rinsed off, he was taken to a warm bath. His bones sighed as the warmth melted the stiffness that had held his body captured for so long. The woman from before brushed the tangles from his hair, rubbed scented substances into his skin and applied healing potions to the bruises he still wore. Samil didn't try to talk to her. He had seen the resilience the other elves had met with the slaves. Instead, he forced his mind to wake up.

Minrathous meant that he was in Tevinter. That was a long way from home. Captured by slavers. He didn't need to be told that. Still, he did wonder what that meant. Truly meant. The elves he had seen bringing buckets hadn't been shackled. Of course, there were guards watching, but not as many as there should have been facing as many of them as there had been. Why not take them out and flee? What had been holding them back? Surely not the simple collars each of the slaves had been wearing around their necks?

After the bath, the elves had been lined up. A man had come to examine them. He sent groups of elves away in different directions, all accompanied by guards. When he stopped in front of Samil, the elf had to tilt his head back just to be able to look into the pair of bright eyes. He was glanced at and sent away, alone. Flanked by two men and bound, but the thought of escape had still crossed his mind.

They had given him clothes - if the simple tunic qualified as such. His wrists had been tended to but placed into heavy shackles made of iron, linked with a chain that had been looped around his waist. He could barely move his arms like this. But he felt better now, with the dirt washed off. More like himself again.

Samil was brought to a room - not a cell, a room - that was sparsely furnished. A hulking man was sitting on a wooden bench, waiting.

Samil had never before seen a Qunari up close, but the tales didn't do them justice. This one had white hair, tied back with red ribbons into a long braid of intricate design that reached his waist. His gray skin had a bronze gleam and his torso was bare, showing black markings that adorned his shoulders. His horns were thicker than Samil's arms and bent backward, framing the head like a crown.

"I have been told that you do speak common", the Qunari addressed him. Samil lifted his chin.

"Only if the conversation promises to be intelligent", the dalish answered cautiously and watched the corner of the broad mouth twitch into a smile that made his hair stand on end.

"Intelligent conversations are exactly what will be requested of you, amongst other things", the Qunari said, sounding pleased. "What was your role in your clan, boy?"

"I was a hunter", Samil answered. It wasn't really a lie. He had been hunting, but something told him that giving away his magical abilities would lessen his chance of escape drastically. He should keep his magic to himself.

"You were captured on a route that our men use to bring merchandise back from the South. What have you been doing in the woods by yourself? I have been told that dalish clans usually avoid the area."

"I was hunting", Samil said with the same tone of voice he had used to tell the Qunari his profession. The man's eyes pierced through him.

"What kind of game could you have looked for that far away from your people, when there is plenty of food in other parts of the woods?"

"Not simple game. I wanted- I've heard there were wolves. Big ones. I wanted to earn my vallaslin", Samil said quickly and came up with the best explanation he could think of. The Qunari studied him silently for a while.

"How old are you, boy?"

"Old enough to be treated as an adult. I have questions, too!"

"That is good. I have every intention of treating you like an adult." The smile returned and made Samil's skin crawl. "Come closer."

"What will happen to me here?"

Samil hadn't meant to burst out like that but the question had been sitting on the tip of his tongue and slipped out before he knew. The Qunari paused, as if startled, then he sat back.

"That is something that will also depend on you."

"On me?" Samil had never felt as confused.

"On your behavior", the Qunari specified. "There will be things requested of you. How you will be treated will depend on how you respond." He lifted his hand, gesturing again for Samil to come closer. The elf took a few hesitant steps. "Good", the Qunari observed. "You're understanding fast. Tevinter high class doesn't like to waste many words on servants. Learn to act on gestures and signs. You will fulfil your master's wishes before he even knows he had them."

Samil froze. Master! The word made his blood run cold.

"I will not!"

"Then there isn't much use to you, is there? Besides the cost of purchasing you and keeping you fed - a waste of money." The Qunari watched him patiently whilst Samil struggled to follow. Tales of sacrifices and tevinter blood magic flooded his mind and the elf grew ashen. The Qunari saw a flash of understanding and nodded. "You will be bought, there is no way around that. It depends on you what will become of you. There are kind and gentle masters. Please them well and your life will be easy. Or you might end up slaving away on hard labor on your way to an early grave."

The Qunari stood and crossed the distance between them with elegant strides like a big cat. Samil took a step back, but a hand as big as his skull slipped behind his neck, holding him in place as the man inspected him up close.

"You are beautiful and young enough to benefit from it for some years if you are wise. The lack of markings will raise the price one might be willing to pay for you here. Learn how to please and you can choose a luxurious life."

"I don't even know what that is supposed to mean-"

A horrified cry rose from Samil's lips when warm fingers found his right nipple through the roughspun fabric and gave it a pinch. It was the moment the meaning of the Qunari's words became clear to him.

 

* * * * *

 

They had had to restrain him like a wild beast. After the talk with the Qunari, Samil had struggled against his shackles, until his skin had been red raw and bleeding. He had bitten the Tal-Vashoth. He remembered well the feeling of his teeth trying to break through skin. He hadn't tasted blood, but the bite would have left an ugly bruise. Men had come rushing in after hearing the noise of fighting, but it hadn't been a real fight. Not with him in chains, against a man whose size would have been enough to crush him like an insect.

The elf had still only stopped his futile fighting when his strength had left him on the edge of unconsciousness. He dully remembered someone rushing in to stop the guards from beating him, even if he hadn't understood their words, he had known the meaning by then.

Do not damage the merchandise.

He woke up to gentle fingers applying more healing herbs to his bruises, even if he could barely feel any pain by now, thanks to a draught of herbs he had been given. They had been trained well in the art of healing. The fingers moved and stroked and brought his spirits back - in more than one sense. Alarmed, Samil flinched and tried to sit up, but found himself unable to do so. He had been strapped to a bed, the leather softly wrapping around his wrists and ankles, four chains connecting the leather cuffs to the bedposts.

"You're awake. Good. And healthy, too. Even better." He knew the voice. Samil craned his neck to look at the Qunari, who was closing the door behind the leaving servants. His right underarm was wrapped in white strips of linen, Samil noticed with grim satisfaction. In his left hand, however, the man was holding a wooden bowl filled with fruit. Now that Samil had seen the food, his body could smell it across the room, reminding him of his empty stomach.

"I imagine you must be hungry. I have been told that you were refusing food for some time now. We can't have you starving yourself."

The Qunari stepped around the bed and sat down, the mattress shifting under his mass. His mere proximity was enough to raise gooseflesh all over the elf's flank, without even being touched. His stomach gave a loud growl of protest as the Qunari picked up a diced piece of sweet fruit and ate it right in front of him, lips twitching into a smile again.  
"Here is how this goes. I will feed you and you will keep those sharp teeth of yours away from my skin but-", he set the bowl down on the elf's stomach, who shuddered from the cold, "You will ask me nicely for every bite." The elf stared. The Qunari watched patiently.

"...I thought the Qunari were at war with Tevinter", Samil breathed finally and watched the horned man pick up a red strawberry, which distracted him enough to follow the fruit with his gaze instead of keeping an eye on the Qunari.

"There is a Treaty, not an open war, but it's certainly bordering on one. And it's not Qunari in general who are against the Imperium, even if certainly the majority of those under the Qun's influence." The Qunari turned the strawberry between his fingers, until the tip was pointing downwards, holding it just out of reach of the elf.

"What are you doing here?" The elf's eyes kept flitting between the food and the Qunari's face.

"Deciding my future for myself. So far I've been successful at it, I'd like to think. You could do the same."

"You're-", the strawberry kept distracting the hungry elf, "a mercenary?"

"That would be correct, alas I fear that's not what my people would call me now. It's not poisoned. Go on."

The tip of the strawberry touched the elf's lips for just a second, leaving a drop of scented water behind, but was pulled up again too fast for the elf to snatch it. His stomach whined audibly and a quick tongue licked away the drop.

"Let's start this easy. Say 'please'." Samil's full lips tightened into a small line. The Qunari shrugged and ate the strawberry right in front of him. "A little courtesy won't hurt you. I will eat every piece you do not want", he informed casually as he reached for the next piece of fruit. Samil could feel the bowl shift on his stomach when the Qunari picked up a peeled grape, holding it up for the elf to inspect.

"Why are you working for them?" Samil tried his best to ignore the food.

The grape disappeared between the Qunari's lips, followed by the elf's gaze.

"It's mutually beneficial." The Qunari's eyes scanned the naked body before him with a solemn smile, then he picked up another morsel. "Everything gets picked for you under the Qun. I like making my own decisions."

"So do I!", Samil tried but was cut off by a gentle headshake.

"There is a key difference between the two of us. I have freed myself from my shackles and you would willingly return to yours - so I'd rather give you some new ones that suit you better than a nomadic life of hardship. You'll come to like them." The Qunari held up a slice of apple for the elf to consider. "No?" Then the apple was gone, too.

Their conversation scraped at the surface of topics about the Qun and the Imperium, but Samil kept being distracted by the food that was slowly disappearing until he threw his head back in frustration.

"Fine! Please!", he cried out after almost an hour of slow torture. The Qunari smiled and finally placed the piece of fruit against the elf's lips.

"No teeth", he reminded gently and watched the dalish take the food carefully from between his fingers, avoiding to touch his skin at all. "Well done", he praised as the elf watched him almost expectantly. A moment of silence passed, interrupted only by the growling of Samil's stomach. "Remember what I said before?"

The elf blushed humiliated but gave in.

"Please?", he asked again and was fed another bite. "Please?", he repeated quickly after it was gone, but was met with a stern face.

"Try to make me understand what you're asking for."

"..."

"Full sentence", the Qunari encouraged and let another strawberry hang above the elf, promisingly.

"Please, feed me?", the elf tried, voice quivering a little as a new feeling rushed through his mind.

"There's a good boy. Keep going."

They went through some more pieces of fruit and the Qunari praised him as he saw fit.

"Now for the key lesson for today: you will start addressing people by their title."

The elf licked his lips and looked annoyed. "Haven't you had your fun?"

"Oh, I am quite enjoying myself. You'll address me as master for the duration of your training and the one who buys you as master or mistress accordingly. Come now."

"Please feed me, Master", the elf said but managed to make the last word sound like an insult. The Qunari klicked his tongue and crushed the grape he was holding, letting the juice dribble down onto the elf's lips, chin and neck. "Try again."

Samil blinked repeatedly when he opened his eyes, feeling the stickiness on his skin and grimaced.

"This is ridiculous."

"That's not for you to decide. Come one. Let me hear it."

"Any title must be earned", the elf spat.

He didn't know what kind of reaction he had expected from the Qunari, but the growing smile was frightening him and when the towering man stood, a shiver passed through the bound body.

"Very well then-"


End file.
